


Wild Men

by lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill), traintracks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Chan, Cross-Generation Relationship, Frottage, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Uncircumcised Penis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-07 02:53:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosed_quill/pseuds/lq_traintracks, https://archiveofourown.org/users/traintracks/pseuds/traintracks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Harry watches Sirius strip off his putrid rags by the side of the clear pool. "God..." Sirius sighs, scratching his chest, turning his bare white arse to Harry. But not before Harry gets an eyeful of the other.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wild Men

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Daily Deviant's theme of: Uncircumsized Penis.

Harry watches Sirius strip off his putrid rags by the side of the clear pool.

"God..." Sirius sighs, scratching his chest, turning his bare white arse to Harry. But not before Harry gets an eyeful of the other. The large, soft, dangling cock. His godfather's cock. Harry swallows, unable to turn away. He's gripping the change of clothes he brought tight to his chest like some scandalized virgin.

He is -- sort of scandalized, definitely a virgin. He's seen his mates' bits, but only disguised glances at them. His own prick has been in his hand every-other-minute lately. But it doesn't look like Sirius'.

His godfather stretches in a patch of sun filtering down through the trees and his whole naked body elongates, the thin muscles flexing, and Harry can see everything. Everything. Even the way the foreskin hugs the shaft, how it gapes a little over the tip.

Sirius squats by the pool, his heels coming off the ground, the skin of his arse stretched even whiter over his flesh and bones, the crack dark and fascinating. His spine curves; his hair falls in his face; he runs a hand through the shallows.

"Cold," he says, turning his head to wink at Harry. He stands, takes three steps back, and then runs and jumps into the middle of the pool with a splash. Sirius is submerged, but then he rises, gasping, pushing his hair back off his face. "Sweet Merlin..." he breathes, laughing. Then, "Are you coming?"

"Me?"

"Is there anyone else?"

Harry actually looks around himself at the surrounding trees. Sirius splashes some water his direction, and even though it has no chance of reaching him at this distance, goosebumps erupt along Harry's skin. He wants to. He'd brave the cold to swim with Sirius. It's just that....

"Come on. It's glorious."

"I believe cold was the word you used."

"Gloriously cold." Sirius grins at him, bobbing. The sun is shining on his wet shoulders, and the water drips from his hair, his beard.

Harry drops the change of clothes and begins to strip. Sirius watches him. Harry pleads with his body not to get too excited. He's nervous enough, unsure enough, that it keeps what has been a rather ridiculous problem of late in check long enough for him to strip naked and walk into the water.

Sirius watches his every step, and Harry is very aware of the changes in his own body -- the new hair, the new size of things, the way his muscles have defined themselves. He wonders if Sirius likes how he looks. Harry doesn't have a dozen black tattoos. He only has the one scar. His skin isn't weathered with time and abuse.

His cock is circumcised. There is nothing to hide the blushing head as it swings between his thighs.

What does Sirius see as he watches him go deeper into the pool? A godson to be proud of? A replica of his father?

Does he see a body he wants to touch?

Harry is perfectly aware of his godfather's circumstances -- the long years in Azkaban and all that they've done to him, kept from him. Harry thinks he understands completely the hungry, haunted look that comes into Sirius' eyes as he approaches. He knows he should have left the clothes and gone back to school, but, perhaps absurdly, he feels it's his duty to protect Sirius while he's out in the open. He needs to watch over Sirius until Sirius is strong enough to watch over him. To be the family for which Harry has so desperately longed.

That longing has always been a twisted thing in his heart, though. The memory of Sirius' hand on his chest has been an incendiary comfort.

Harry feels no less conflicted now as he walks into the water up to his chest, and his godfather's face lights up with a smile.

"You need a haircut," Sirius tells him, splashing him a little.

"You're one to talk." Harry splashes back.

"Dunk your head. It feels good." Sirius sounds a little breathless.

Harry leans back and submerges his hair. He thinks he can feel Sirius' gaze on the arch of his throat, his nipples breaking the water's surface. He lifts his head and blinks.

"Not like that," Sirius tells him. "Hold your breath and go under." The fresh water has rejuvenated his godfather. Harry has hated that he must hide in the cave. Harry hates the cave. And he loves the cave. Because this wilderness is where he can be alone with Sirius. Someday, they'll sit in a room, in chairs, in clean clothes, and they'll be godfather and godson. Here, Sirius is often more animal than human. Here, together, they're wild men.

Harry holds his breath and goes under the water. When he comes back up, Sirius has neared. "That's better. Isn't it?"

Harry nods. "Yeah. Feels good."

"Not so cold now."

Harry shakes his head no, and a few droplets of water hit Sirius in the face. One lands on Sirius' lip, and he licks it off.

They observe each other in the rippling silence, then Sirius grabs Harry up in a hug. It's the most highly inappropriate thing Harry's ever been subjected to, and his cock immediately hardens against Sirius' body. Sirius breathes in Harry's ear, warm and shuddering. Harry wraps his arms around Sirius' neck. His toes skate along the smooth pebbles at the bottom of the pool, his body gravitating into his godfather's effortlessly.

Sirius kisses his temple, the wet whiskers tickling him. Harry would give anything to rub against him. He's already hard. He knows Sirius can feel it. But right now they're both pretending it's not there, that this is okay. Sirius' hands rub up and down Harry's back, making little waves.

Harry knows he shouldn't, but he lifts his toes off the ground. He lets Sirius support his lessened weight, and he wraps his legs around his godfather's waist.

"Harry..." Sirius sighs.

Harry's cock is pressed tight between Sirius' stomach and his own. Harry is very aware of how Sirius' cock might rise and touch his opening. He feels daring, breathless. He doesn't even know what he wants. He just wants. And he doesn't think Sirius would deny him. Not if he asks. Harry is so close to asking. Instead, he shifts his hips and ruts his cock along his godfather's wet belly once. Sirius exhales hot against his ear.

"You don't know what you're doing," Sirius says, his hands gripping Harry's hips now. He doesn't push away, just holds.

"I do know," Harry tells him. But it is all so amorphous to him, so mutable. What does he want? He wants Sirius to touch and hold him. He wants their bodies to press and slide. He wants to share himself.

"I haven't...done anything...for so long," Sirius admits through gritted teeth. And now Harry feels it: the wet kiss of the head against his buttock. He's done this to Sirius, to his body. He's made that cock push through its sheath -- made it come searching for him, wanting him. Harry can't help it; he shifts a little, and Sirius' cock slides right where he wants it, where he fears it, to that aching part of him that seems to both symbolize and make manifest his emptiness.

"I know," Harry whispers.

Sirius starts moving, minute thrusts. Harry clings to him.

"It's been twelve years, Harry." Sirius' voice is edged, dangerous with longing and his attempt to restrain it.

"I know," Harry assures him.

"But I can't with you. I can't."

Sirius' cock is rubbing over his entrance. Sirius already is, and all Harry needs to do, he thinks, is keep him from stopping. He rocks his hips. Sirius groans. They're making small waves that lick and lap at their bodies. It takes the place of speech. Harry presses his face to the side of his godfather's rough, whiskered neck and whimpers. Sirius' hands are guiding his hips now. He's slipping along and against Harry's arsehole. The protruding head of Sirius' cock is slick in a way different than water, and it kisses Harry's entrance, nudging but never inserting. Sirius' hands move to grasp Harry's buttocks. He pulls, opening him, and Harry shudders, arching his back for it, and comes.

"Oh God," he cries out against Sirius' neck, bucking and shooting his come between them.

Sirius holds him, once again stroking his back. He's murmuring, "My boy, my boy..."

Harry stops quivering, his legs loosening their tight grip around Sirius' hips. Sirius backs away from him, his breathing a shivering, shocked thing. He runs a hand through his long hair. He starts trudging away, out of the water. Harry knows Sirius is still hard and aches for him to return. He doesn't know why, but he wants Sirius to take something from him. He wants Sirius' resolve to go hard as his cock. Harry wants him to not care, to finish things.

"Sirius, wait," he calls, but Sirius doesn't turn around. He walks onto the bank and picks up the towel Harry brought.

Harry comes out of the water, shaking it out of his hair. His body is thrumming with new consciousness.

"Sirius, please. Let me."

Sirius whirls on him, the towel held to his crotch. "Let you what." He's angry and beautiful, and Harry can never be afraid of him, so he approaches incautiously. He touches Sirius' haggard face, the too-thick beard. Sirius doesn't move now. He, too, is starved for the touch. Harry leans up and presses his lips to Sirius', and on his godfather's gasp, Harry steals in with his tongue.

Sirius tastes like the candy he's been pinching from the shops. Harry licks into his mouth, and Sirius doesn't fight. He doesn't fight at all, slipping his hand up into Harry's spiky hair and tugging, deepening the kiss, making Harry moan.

Sirius breathes hard against him. Harry gently tugs the towel away and lets it fall. They're both still dripping. Harry pulls back out of the kiss, and lowers himself to his knees. Sirius opens his eyes and looks down at him. He's about to say no. He's frowning at Harry, even as his hand stays threaded into Harry's hair affectionately.

Harry takes Sirius' cock in his hand, eyes the glistening head, and presses a chaste kiss just beneath it. Sirius shudders, his hand tightening, making Harry's scalp tingle. He looks up at Sirius looming over him and says, "Show me how."

Sirius blinks, but he doesn't fight. He takes his hand, closes it around Harry's on his shaft, and moves the skin up and down. Harry watches as it encloses the head once more, leaving just a wink of shiny rose-pink flesh. Then Sirius moves their hands and pulls the foreskin back, revealing everything entirely. Harry loves the vulnerable nakedness. He inhales the scent of it, his mouth watering.

Sirius moves their hands again, this time until the head disappears completely into the sheath, until the skin is slack at the end. Sirius' gaze finds Harry's, and he nods. Harry leans forward and mouths at the loose skin, and Sirius barks out an epithet, throwing his head back, cursing the sky. It sends a powerful shiver through Harry's whole body, and he's getting hard again. Harry breathes in the illicit scent of Sirius' cock, licks into the foreskin experimentally, finding the head and fluttering his tongue against it, because it's slick and hidden and wonderful and he wants to.

"Use your teeth," Sirius whispers. "On the skin."

Harry slants a look up at him. Against his better judgment, he takes the skin between his teeth and, after only one timid pause, gently tugs.

Sirius growls, both hands plunging into Harry's hair and pulling. Harry gasps, and in one smooth motion, his godfather thrusts his cock into Harry's open mouth.

He doesn't go too deep. He fills Harry's whole mouth with half his cock, but Sirius doesn't gag him. Even reckless, he's careful. He's watching Harry's face, his eyes, the way his mouth stretches, and he starts to move in and out, but carefully. Harry can feel the restraint. Sirius tastes warm and slightly bitter. He smells like fresh things -- wet dirt, the minerals in rocks. The feel of his cock between Harry's lips is like some sort of nirvana, like they've completed a circuit. Harry feels utterly alive with want.

He reaches up and around and touches Sirius' pumping arse. He wants to grasp onto the power that's moving through him, the tenderness than reins his godfather in.

Sirius moans when Harry touches him, so Harry squeezes Sirius' moving buttocks, and the cock in his mouth releases a sharp bead of precome.

"I can't," Sirius pants. He pulls out of Harry's swollen mouth. "Move back," he instructs, stroking his cock in a frenzy.

"No," Harry says.

Sirius' face twists up in something like agony, and then he's coming, shooting warm ropes of white onto Harry's chest. Harry flinches in surprise, but it's exhilarating, the feel of it, sticky and pungent and dripping down his skin.

"I told you to move," Sirius breathes.

"And I said no," Harry answers.

Sirius drops to his knees, undone, finished with chivalry. He takes Harry's come-wet nipple between finger and thumb, takes Harry's cock in hand, and in nine seconds of touch, head thrown back in ecstasy, Harry comes again, coating the inside of his godfather's fist.

"I was never going to do this," Sirius tells him. It becomes a chant: "I was never going to do this." And it feels good to hear that, not because he's corrupted Sirius' morals, but because it's the incontrovertible truth of Sirius wanting him.

Sirius grabs him, wrestles his willing body to the ground, and rolls on top of him. He strokes Harry's face. "Someday you may regret this. You may even hate me. And you'll be right to."

Harry shakes his head, wraps his legs around Sirius again, and begins to urge him down. "I won't," he says. He knows it like Sirius can't. He pulls Sirius down, and down, and down some more, into the cradle of his legs, because he knows Sirius belongs there.

Harry opens Sirius' mouth on a kiss, and feels Sirius exhale in relief against him.


End file.
